


Your Love Comes On So Strong

by floosilver8



Series: Schitt Sex [7]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alexis makes a cameo, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e03 The Plant, Everybody Loves Ray Butani, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floosilver8/pseuds/floosilver8
Summary: David finally fucks Patrick's brains out.The continuing sexploits of Schitt's Creek. You don't need to read the others in the series to follow this one, but you might want to read #3 to get one of the jokes.Mostly canon compliant, expands Patrick's POV for S5E3.(Title from Tina Turner's "Tonight I’ll be Staying Here with You")
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt Sex [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806271
Comments: 8
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

Patrick would never say _anything_ about the fact that David and Alexis sometimes had the exact same mannerisms. It was in the purse of the lips, a flail of hand, or jutting a hip out involuntarily with their growing exasperation. David could wink, he supposed, though it was more of a lazy eye thing he did to accentuate a judgmental point. At any rate it was apparently not a gesture that Alexis had mastered at all. But Patrick would never, _ever_ say anything about _any_ of that lest it risk the wonderfully blooming relationship he and David had been building.

“I just don’t understand why I can’t come with you!” Alexis’s vocal fry was starting to emerge with her growing annoyance.

“Because it’s not _your_ place!” David screeched in response. “This town is the size of a postage stamp and we need you to mind the store for _one_ fucking hour!” Patrick could see the flush emerging on his cheeks. “PLEASE!” David added as an afterthought.

“UGH! Fine!” Alexis flipped her hair in David’s face as she stalked in her giant platform shoes behind the counter.

“Thank you!” David and Patrick chime in unison – David with 100 percent more derision in his tone than Patrick.

It had been a few months since their temporary hiatus, and fewer months since they said ‘I love you’ and things were going amazingly. Mostly. Patrick was finally, _finally_ getting an apartment of his own – it was long overdue – and David was going to help him check out the possibilities.

“Sorry to cause a rift,” Patrick says as David settles himself in the passenger seat of his car. “We don’t have to do this today if it’s too much. I can ask Ray–“

“Uh, no,” David tuts, cutting him off. “It’s fine. She’s just jealous. Besides, she knows I’m paying her in product later and she’s been begging me to save her one of Marilyn’s frankincense charcoal masks. Says it reminds her of the time she got locked in the Vatican overnight on a dare and gave a Swiss guard a hand job so he wouldn’t rat on her. Matteo apparently still asks her for nudes every so often – which she swears she doesn’t send but I don’t know if I believe her.”

Patrick can’t help the little laugh in his throat.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Patrick smiles, “Your sister just has a lot of strange stories about getting into trouble in other countries.”

“Ugh, I know. It’s kind of her ‘thing.’ Half of the stories are fine, it’s the ones where I would have to go and literally rescue her that still irk me.”

“Yeah? How many times was that?” Patrick asks, genuinely curious.

“It’s happened on every continent except Antarctica, four counties that end in -stan, and I’ve blocked out some of the rest.”

“Wow,” Patrick hopes his tone reflects surprise and concern rather than judgement.

“Yeah, well. Like I said it’s her ‘thing.’ I finally got her to tell me exactly where she was going the moment her travel plans changed by threatening to sell her Louboutin collection in storage at our L.A. house. It became a habit to keep me informed after that. The Feds own her Louboutins now anyway.”

“Well,” Patrick says after a beat, “sounds like you two have always been close.”

“Mmmm,” David thinks for a long moment. “I suppose you’re right.” Patrick notices the way his mouth contorts and how his fingers drum on his knee, like the realization is uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Patrick reaches over and squeezes his hand gently. Learning the soft little things about David – who prided himself on being sharp angles – always warmed his heart. “It was very nice of you to do all that for her. You are a nice person.”

David clears his throat and gazes out the window, “thank you.”

Patrick parks the car outside of the first address on Ray’s list. It’s apparently the upper floor of a duplex. It doesn’t _not_ resemble a haunted house, but it’s not much better.

“Well, it goes with my rustic aesthetic,” he grins at David and pokes him gently in the side.

“Oh, honey, no.” David grimaces and gapes first at him and then back up at the house. “It’s _literally_ a nightmare on Elm Street.”

Patrick pulls out his phone and dials. “Hi Ray,” he puts on a chipper tone to match Ray’s when he answers. “David has nixed the first place on your list. Can we meet you at the second place instead?”

Less than five minutes later they are parked outside of the small brick apartment building at the end of Bridge Street. It’s perfectly unassuming, and they find out less than five minutes after that, that it is in fact a perfectly nice apartment. Patrick would even go so far as to say it is _the_ perfect apartment.

When David starts spiraling about something on HGTV and renovated craftsmen, he knows he has to control the situation a bit.

“I don't know if I love this place,” David confesses in a low whisper. “And I'm not just saying that because the lack of closet space will inevitably force us to break up. I just sort of feel like, if we're going to be moving in together, we should both be totally on board.”

Patrick almost freezes, the awkwardness of the misunderstanding washing over him. “I totally understand, David,” he tries to remain calm and not think about David mentioning breaking up again. “It’s just that I was looking at this place like, just for me.” His stomach is in his throat as David takes it in and processes. He _had_ said ‘we’ when talking about this place. It’s just that when he thought about it, he couldn’t really extract David from the equation. They were _together_. He was _going_ to be there. But some caveman part of Patrick’s brain wanted to be territorial and a little possessive and proud about this place.

“Sure,” David eventually relents. “Well then, you know, in that case, if this is just for you…and _occasionally_ me…I think it's cute.”

The easy lilt is back in his voice, but Patrick’s still cautious. Until it hits him. 

“Wait, does this mean you were ready to move in with me?” he grins at the thought, and his cheeks start to ache with it as David flounders and excuses things away.

Ray offers to show them one other apartment, but it turns out it’s the Schitt’s basement conversion and the idea is rejected immediately.

So, ten minutes later, Patrick is signing the lease and wire transferring the first month’s rent to the landlord. Ray leaves them after that, and they stand for a moment in what Patrick assumes will be the living room.

“Congratulations,” David says softly, arms crossed tightly in front of his chest, shifting from foot to foot and looking everywhere but directly at Patrick.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick replies gently, all too aware of how David is not all the way fine with _not_ moving in together. “Hey,” he reaches out and rubs David’s back gently until he turns and faces him.

“Are you allowed to paint?” David rambles immediately. “I think this room would be better in a cool mint or arctic grey. Or maybe you can do an accent wall over here? I think the only place for your bed is between the windows there. You’ll get some lovely afternoon light.”

Patrick tries to follow it all, but he’s distracted by memories of their near break-up that keep floating through his mind. They unwillingly remind him of what life was like without David there. _I can’t ever go back to that_. Without another thought, he presses the spare key into David’s palm, stopping him in his tracks. “You’re welcome at _literally_ any time, David. I mean it.”

David makes an almost imperceptible sniffle sound as he turns the key over and it just makes Patrick’s guts churn more. “Mmm, well. That’s a very generous invitation.”

“Hey,” he registers how shallow his own breath is, heavy with nerves. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was supposed to be happy and fun and an exciting new chapter that included much needed privacy. Leaning forward slowly, he presses a kiss to David’s cheek, lips scraping against his stubble. It sends a shock of desire straight to his groin like a Pavlovian response. _Damn_ , his boyfriend was hot.

“I think we need to celebrate,” he offers in a low voice, looking up at David with as much meaning as he can summon. The grin spreading across David’s beautiful face calms him and excites him at the same time.

“I think I agree,” David wraps his arms gently around Patrick’s shoulders in the more familiar posture they’re both used to. “What did you have in mind?”

Patrick leans forward again, craving David’s lips. “First I want to do this,” he draws out their kiss, slow, steady, intentional. “And then I want to do this,” he extricates himself from David’s embrace only briefly to go over to the door. He looks David in the eye as he clicks the deadbolt lock into place, then returns to his arms.

“Part of me wishes there was a security chain too,” David grins.

“I will _definitely_ look into it. I would not put it past Ray to make his own spare key.” They’re both laughing lightly, swaying a little and it’s perfect. _This_ is what this was supposed to be like.

“Now what?” David asks, still smiling.

“ _Now_ , I want to do this,” he pulls David in for another kiss, firmer, more urgent. He wants David to know. To _know_ what he means with this kiss. What this apartment means. He wants David to feel in his heart how much he’s wanted, how much room Patrick has made for him in his life.

Patrick lets his hands slide slowly up and down David’s back, pressing their bodies together as much as he can. He gasps for air against David’s mouth licking at his full lower lip. God, he had great lips. And great, strong arms holding him close. And an absolutely fantastic cock pressing against his own.

“Where did you say my bed was going?” he gasps out between fervent kisses. David just gestures vaguely, not breaking their heated embrace. So, Patrick pushes David backward to the far wall and presses against him, thigh firmly slotted between his legs when he finally hits it. “I guess this will become a familiar view then?” he slides down David’s body, coming to rest on his knees, and palms David’s cock through the combination pant/skirt garment he was wearing _again_. Its fastenings are more familiar to Patrick now so he’s able to get it open quickly, exposing David’s growing erection in his Armani briefs. His mouth waters at the sight.

“Ummgh,” David gasps above him as Patrick strokes him with fewer layers of fabric between them now.

“I want you right here,” he whispers into David’s lower abdomen. He pulls David’s designer underwear down slightly, exposing him more fully and licks a long stripe from root to tip. “I want to make you feel good,” he swirls his tongue around the head of David’s cock, bright pink and eager. He holds his boyfriend’s dick firmly by the base while he licks and tastes every inch of him. He can smell David’s moisturizer and the heady scent of arousal. David’s body hair tickles his nose slightly and he tries not to leave the moment.

They were standing in _his_ apartment. He officially had his _own_ apartment. The door was locked, and his boyfriend has his jeans open, getting his cock sucked in the middle of the afternoon.

After about the seventh time, Patrick had stopped keeping track of how many blow jobs he had performed. It was the easiest, cleanest, and sometimes fastest way for them to get each other off. Those factors had been important when hoping Ray couldn’t hear, or that no Roses would come back to the motel unannounced.

But now. _Now_ they were alone. Without threat of anyone barging in. So, Patrick draws it out, takes David slowly, agonizingly slowly into his mouth. Squeezes his cock firmly on the up stroke, twisting his hand just so on the down stroke. He practices relaxing his throat, taking him further into his mouth. Nearly getting his nose to fully touch David’s groin.

“Oh, fuck Patrick this is…” David gasps, “You’re going to kill me.”

“Mmm,” Patrick hums around his cock and he knows what that does to David. He knows that the vibrations drive him wild. And he’s rewarded with the confirmation when David grunts and clutches the sides of Patrick’s head. David’s fingers rake through his short hair, sending a tingle of desire straight down to Patrick’s own cock, spreading out and up. And _Ooooooh, God_.

Patrick can’t help that his supporting hand on David’s hip digs into his flesh. He can’t help that he gets off on David getting off. He can’t stop himself speeding up, bringing David closer to the edge. Closer. _Closer_. David’s fingers grip Patrick’s shoulders so tightly he’s sure he’ll have marks later and he loves it. Loves driving David wild. Loves going down on him. Loves making him fall apart.

“I’m-” David rasps in warning.

It’s so rare that Patrick _doesn’t_ swallow David’s come. It’s become such a habit to just take it all. So, he doesn’t relent, doesn’t pull off, doesn’t blink an eye when the first spurt of warm, bitter come hits his tongue.

“Fuuuck,” David steadies himself against the wall, folding over in exhaustion. “That was…fuck, Patrick that was so good.” David drops to his knees and bundles Patrick into another firm embrace, crashing their lips together again. The way he bites Patrick’s lower lip is a hungry promise, and the baser part of Patrick’s brain really wants David to follow through with it.

“We need to get back to the store and relieve Alexis,” Patrick pants shifting his mouth just out of reach to calm things down. “But how about we order pizza and spend the night here? I think Ray has an air mattress we can borrow.”

“Mmm,” David casts his eyes to the ceiling and presses his lips together in obvious trepidation. “That’s so…incorrect…but, okay,” he flashes his sideways smile.

By the time they get back to Rose Apothecary, David has already rambled off half of the furnishings Patrick will need. He finds himself grinning and going along with it. Patrick couldn’t argue with David’s taste and attention to detail, but he does have to veto the Michael Aram gold tray that just looked very expensive. He wasn’t even sure what he would use it for, which causes David to go into a tirade about the importance of a ‘landing area’ at the main entrance of any living space. The tray remains vetoed regardless.

Patrick and David divide and conquer, David taking over store duties for the rest of the afternoon so Patrick can grab things from Ray’s and pack a little. They agree to meet back at Patrick’s new apartment at 7pm. His _new apartment_. Such a novelty.

It takes Patrick a little longer to grab the pizza from their favorite place in Elmdale, and some more basic groceries for the kitchen – including some Zhampagne for good measure. He gets a text from David as he’s waiting for the pizza.

**David: I’m early x.**

**Patrick: I’m still stuck at Nonno’s.**

**David: No problem, I’m waiting in the car x.**

At first, Patrick doesn’t think anything of that and then the pieces slot together.

**Patrick: What? No, let yourself in, David!  
** **Patrick: It’s what your key is for!**

He watches the little dots blink and disappear a few times before David finally texts back.

**David: …ok.**

**David: One of your neighbors is that lady who bought the entire line of Cookie’s beeswax candles. I hope you have renter’s insurance just in case she burns this place to the ground x.**

Patrick laughs fully out loud, drawing looks from the kids boxing up his pizza.

**Patrick: LOL! Don’t worry, I do.  
** **Patrick: Pizza is in hand. On my way.**

When he gets back to town, his muscle memory almost makes him steer towards Ray’s house. But he smiles to himself as he keeps on course for _his_ apartment. He notes the Rose family car in the small lot, and feels his heart swelling at the comfortable domestic scene.

“David, I told you, you can use your key literally any ti-” Patrick’s hands are full, and struggling with the door has distracted him as he enters. But then he finally looks around to see that David has been busy.

“Welcome home,” David grins nervously, taking the pizza box from his hands and planting a quick kiss to his cheek.

“David!” Patrick can’t help but smile as he takes in the dining table, armchairs and an actual bathroom door. “How did you-? I mean, I _love_ these chairs where did this all come from? Hey, there’s a door!”

“Yes, well,” David takes a grocery bag from Patrick and they start unpacking everything in the kitchen. “The table was in storage at the motel – Stevie says it is her housewarming gift to you, so don’t get too excited – it is in good shape though. I saw the chairs at Sheila’s antique store ages ago – do you remember her? – well she reupholstered the cushions recently and I thought, if I couldn’t have them in my place then you needed them in yours! They will go with literally any color scheme you pick. Oh, and Ray apparently called Roland about the door as soon as he left, so he was also here waiting to fit it in. It’ll need to be repainted, but it’s functional at least. Solid.”

All Patrick can do is gape at David. He notices David has a small stack of what looks like bed sheets and towels next to one of the chairs, likely also pilfered from the motel, as well as his usual overnight bag. There are a few books on the mantle and a small vase of wildflowers. It’s not a lot of stuff, but it’s way more than Patrick expected, especially given the short timeframe.

“David, this is amazing. Thank you.” He finally embraces his boyfriend properly, kissing him deeply to put emphasis on his sincerity. “We need to talk about your budget though,” he steps back to open the pizza and serve slices onto the paper plates he brought from Ray’s.

“Hmm?” David asks mid-bite. “What do you mean?”

“For the apartment,” Patrick leans against the counter casually. “Do your mood board thing or whatever, but first I’m giving you a spreadsheet with my budget outlined. Don’t go crazy, okay?”

“I…” David’s grin forms around the giant bite of pizza he’s still chewing. “Okay…”

They eat and unpack more things Patrick had brought. David started a list of things besides furniture and décor that Patrick would need to buy – linens, cleaning supplies, a stepstool.

“Patrick, my darling, you are _just_ going to need one. Your cabinets are much too high.” David opens one of the doors and reaches up to touch the top shelf pointedly. “How are you ever going to get your pasta down if I’m not here? Your microwave is on top of the fridge for crying out loud! How are you going to clean it?”

“Alright, alright, fine, I’ll get a stepstool.” Patrick has to laugh. “I’m not _that_ short,” he mumbles. He has no objections to getting a stepstool, he had just wanted to needle David a bit. And Patrick had accepted months ago that David was the tall one in the relationship. He actually got off on it a little bit sometimes if he was honest. In the early days of the store, David would be the one to stock the higher shelves. He’d get all worked up and have to take his sweater off, allowing Patrick to ogle his lean body more fully, hints of bare stomach occasionally.

They sit across from each other in the armchairs, sipping the bubbly as David sketches out each section of the apartment. Patrick can’t find any faults with his aesthetic choices, so he just lets David go, growing looser with each sip of alcohol. Soon he’s just fully lounging, smiling softly as he watches David. Eventually, David stops talking about the merits of jute vs canvas and looks up from his notebook. Patrick’s smile grows wider and he glances over at him.

“What?” David asks, grinning back.

“Nothing,” Patrick downs the rest of his drink in one swallow. What he wants to say is that this is heaven. That he doesn’t have a care in the world because he’s sitting with the man he loves and planning for a future that feels right. And he almost says that. It’s on the tip of his tongue. “This is just nice,” he settles for almost. Implied. “Having you here.”

David sets his notebook aside and slinks off his chair, coming to rest on his knees in front of Patrick. His eyelids are heavy, slow. His smile is relaxed, easy. His hands come to rest on Patrick’s thighs, drawing slow circles up and down. “Mmm,” he hums lazily, “you liked coming home to me? Liked having me take care of stuff for you? Liked me taking care of you?”

There’s something in the tone, something in his selected words that spreads warmth through Patrick’s groin. Tingles radiate through his body from the booze and David’s obvious intentions, and his cock is half-hard just from his voice. He nods slowly, reaching out to run his fingers gently through David’s hair.

“Do you want me to take care of you now?” David asks, his voice low and intoxicating, his hands moving determinedly up to the fly of Patrick’s jeans. “Tell me how you want it.”

It takes Patrick several seconds to form a coherent word because David has managed to get his fly open and cock out in a flash.

“Tell me,” he whispers again, lips pressed to the side of Patrick’s clothed knee.

“Oh, God,” Patrick gasps, aching with desire. Craving David’s touch. “I want you,” he pants, “I want your mouth on me. _Fuck_ , David, I want you to take me down your gorgeous throat. I want you to choke on it.” He’s rewarded with David grasping his cock firmly and wrapping his lips around the head, carefully taking him further down until his nose is pressed against Patrick’s stomach. He pulls off just as slowly.

“Keep talking. Tell me what else you want,” he breathes, returning his beautiful, clean – but oh, _so very_ dirty – mouth to Patrick’s cock.

“I want, um,” Patrick’s always had trouble thinking of anything else besides the feel of David exploring his body and drawing pleasure from each touch. “I want this, I guess. I want you on your knees for me. But, _oh, fuck, David_ , I also want you on the floor. I want to fuck you on every surface in this place.”

“Yeah?” David pops off his cock but doesn’t stop stroking him, hard, fast. The edge of the cliff is terribly, wonderfully close. “You want me in your bed? Bumping it against the walls for all the neighbors to hear?”

“Oooh, _fuck_ , yes.” Patrick’s mind starts to wander to all the delightful possibilities this new space can afford them. “I want you in my bed every night. I want to feel you come when I’m inside of you. But, David, _God_ ,” his brain barrels toward something he’s wanted to bring up. Something they haven’t gotten around to exploring yet. “David, I want you to fuck me in the new bed. I want it to be the first thing we do together in it. _I want you. I just want you_.” His mantra repeats in his head indefinitely until he feels the familiar apex and free fall as he comes down David’s throat.

Blinking back to reality a moment later, he smiles down at David, gently tucking his spent dick back in his jeans. Patrick can’t even bring himself to be a little embarrassed about the wanton look of it all.

“These bamboo floors are gorgeous,” David shifts back to sit with his legs outstretched in front of himself. “But they are murder on the knees. You’ll need some very plush area rugs if this is to continue.”

“Hmmm,” Patrick hums in agreement having experienced the effect of 30-something knees on hardwood for an extended period of time earlier that day.

“Also, we have a lot of work to do,” David drops his voice low again, “if you want to accomplish, well, _getting fucked_ hopefully very soon.”

Patrick throws his head back against the chair, embarrassed, turned on, excited. “I love you,” he says to the ceiling, peeking out of the corner of his eye to see David smirk and squirm.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes a week for Patrick’s bed to arrive. Without even needing to ask, they agree that Patrick will take the day off from the store to assemble it and the other furniture that arrives with it.

For seven days straight, all Patrick has been able to think about is getting fucked into the mattress. They had returned the air mattress to Ray five days after the first night in the apartment, when Patrick buried himself in his boyfriend’s ass like he was home and going to set up a base camp.

The air mattress had been delightfully bouncy but required refilling in the middle of the night otherwise they were liable to wake up flat on the floor with sore backs. That complication meant that David hadn’t spent every night with Patrick, but at least had dinner with him. Well, dinner and fooling around. The locked door was an aphrodisiac that neither man could have predicted. At any rate, David had been a patient and enthusiastic teacher in the art of taking a cock in the ass.

It had started that first night, David teasing Patrick’s hole with the pads of his fingertips first. Just a bit, just to get him used to it. The next night David added his tongue to the mix and Patrick nearly shot off the air mattress like a rocket it was _soooo_ …so, _naughty_ and so hot, and dear lord that was just his _tongue_.

The nights when Patrick had worked David open, David would instruct him on what to try, what he thought felt good and what Patrick might want to try on himself when he was alone. That idea had caused Patrick to black out for a minute, and when he was finally alone, and he did finally try it…oh, holy shit. It was good. He had gotten three fingers in his ass while he jerked off in the shower, thinking about David and his cock. After he dried off, he texted David.

**Patrick: 3 😏**

**David: three what?**

**Patrick: :|**

It took David a few seconds to text back.

**David: OH!  
** **David: Oh fuck!**

**Patrick: 😊**

**David: Baby I’m so proud of you! x  
** **David: Send me the track shipment link for your bed immediately please. x**

**Patrick: Calm down, it arrives tomorrow 😉**

**David: Then I shall see you tomorrow night. x**

**Patrick: Can’t wait ❤**

At 5:05pm Patrick has to keep himself from calling David immediately. He paces around his small apartment, touching and adjusting things, trying not to spontaneously combust. He showered as soon as he had finished assembling the metal frame bed. He picked out the new, soft as butter, grey sheets for the bed. He decides not to leave the lube on the nightstand. He makes sure the wine is chilled, the table set for dinner (take-out from the café that David is grabbing before heading over). He preens in the tiny bathroom mirror for too long and starts to get sick of his own face.

He checks his phone at 6:02pm exactly and can’t keep his fingers still, the contact entry with David’s name just opening and his thumb hitting the green phone icon to call him.

“Yes, darling?” David trills when he answers.

“Hi,” Patrick laughs nervously, “just wondering how…um, much longer you were going to be?” He hears David’s breathy laugh on the other side of the line and tries not to let the embarrassment overtake him.

“Mmm eager to see me, are we?”

“I, um…yeah…” Anytime his mind wasn't occupied with assembly instructions that day he had been half hard and bouncing in anticipation of their evening together.

“Good,” David says firmly. “Also, please open the door my hands are full.”

“What?” Patrick startles, pulling his eyes away from where they were staring at his new bed.

“Open the door!” David’s voice comes clearly over the phoneline and through the door.

In a rush, Patrick opens it for him, taking the carry-out bag dangling from his fingers, and letting David set down the box he’s holding with both arms. His phone, that he was apparently cradling against his cheek and shoulder falls on top of it with a small thud.

“Thank you,” he puffs. “Whatever this is, it’s heavy and it was waiting by your mailbox downstairs.” He sets it gingerly on the kitchen counter, pressing a small kiss to Patrick’s cheek before tearing into the tape like the package was for him.

“I have no idea what that is, I wasn’t expecting anything else,” Patrick says almost in warning like it could be something nefarious. But it has Amazon.ca stamped on the side so it can’t be that bad, right?

“It better be something good after I lugged it up two flights of stairs.” Before they need to say anything else, David has the box opened and revealing an electric waffle maker. He holds it up, grinning broadly. “It’s a waffle maker!” So definitely ‘worth it’ in David’s eyes then.

“What?” Patrick asks, a little startled. “Did you order this?”

“What? No!” David looks almost offended. “Where’s the receipt maybe there’s a name.”

Patrick pulls the shipping box towards him and finds the folded white piece of paper in the bottom. He scans it until he sees the Gift Message box and reads it out loud.

“I’ll miss having you as a roommate, Patrick. This is so you can continue to take care of our David. Congratulations. Love, Ray Butani.”

“Aww, oh my god,” David whispers gently, making an overexaggerated touched face.

“Wow,” Patrick has to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. “Ray’s such a good guy.”

“Yeah he is,” David admires the waffle maker, reading the features listed on the box. “Unrelated question, did you buy any baking mix yet…or…?”

All nerves leaving his body suddenly, Patrick laughs fully out loud before leaning in and giving David another soft kiss. “Yes, David. Don’t worry.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” David bounces excitedly. “And what about-”

“Yes! I got the good maple syrup from Gerry’s farm. You act like I’m not the most Canadian person you’ve ever dated.”

“Ah, see that is where you are wrong. I dated like, half the 2003 cast of Degrassi in college. It was real messy,” he adds with a grimace.

“Pft, I’m more Canadian than them,” Patrick pouts.

“We are getting sidetracked!” David trills brightly. “Show me what you did today!”

They tour around the apartment, discussing the newly assembled furniture. David compliments everything but ultimately acts like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t been itching to be here all day, and Patrick has to keep glancing at him sideways to double check. How can he be so calm? How has he not been thinking about this every minute of every day like Patrick had?

Dinner is laid out, consumed, and tidied up in short order. David moves to the living room and mentions finding something to watch on Interflix when Patrick finally loses it.

“David!” he huffs, having apparently been holding his breath and letting his anxiety and enthusiasm overtake him. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Grinning broadly, David’s eyes flash excitedly. Apparently he _had_ been thinking about this. He’s around the couch and grabbing Patrick by the hand in an instant. “I thought you’d never ask,” he flirts, pulling Patrick into a kiss and over to the bed simultaneously. “Jeans and shirt off, please,” he commands in a firm whisper.

The demand sends a spark of excitement to Patrick’s cock and David leaves him at the foot of the bed to disrobe, practically bouncing back to the bathroom and returning a moment later with a towel. He rakes his eyes over Patrick’s body appreciatively.

“Oooh, yes. I was hoping you’d wear _those_ tonight.” The comment is spoken solely to the Tom Ford trunks Patrick had bought specially for their first night together all those months ago just to drive David crazy. It had worked then and it was quite grounding to wear them again, his semi straining the fabric already.

“Mmm, lovely. Lovely.” David sighs absently as he pulls the duvet back and spreads the towel out on the sheets. “Looks like I need to catch up. Take those off now too. They are too beautiful.”

Patrick strips his last article of clothing off, sort of trying not to stare while David takes off his sweater and folds it, before working off his designer jeans. Patrick registers that for once he’s _not_ wearing the skirted pants that are more complicated to remove. It takes him a second to realize what he is wearing under them though. At first, he just thinks they’re the same Versace briefs David wore their first night together too. They have the same Greco gold band and logo. But the cut…the cut is…

“Oooohhhhhh,” he gasps, fully staring at his boyfriend, mouth instantly watering. “Oh, David.” His hands reach out like they have a mind of their own, but David’s just out of his range of motion. "Are those new?"

“Mmm, sadly, no. But good reaction I take it?” David twists from side to side, showing off the Versace thong and the tiny strip of black fabric cradled between his ass cheeks.

His own reaction to the tiny underwear on…well, a man… _his_ man…takes him by surprise. His mouth is literally watering and he can't tear his eyes away. “I want to suck your cock so bad,” Patrick whispers dropping to his knees.

“Ahh, that would be a treat,” there’s a hint of warning in David’s voice. “But I have a feeling I’m not going to last long enough for you to do that, and then also fuck you. So, you have to choose one.”

Raising his eyes to meet David’s, Patrick swallows hard before replying, “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” His cock is at full mast and honestly, he’s not sure how long he’s going to last either. They haven’t even touched each other yet.

“Mmm, excellent,” he reaches out to help Patrick stand and guides him to lay on the bed finally. “Besides, we have all night. You can do it later if you still want to.”

“Ooh, I’ll still want to.” Perhaps he was being too eager. Perhaps he should dial it back, but frankly his cock had been doing the majority of the thinking all day.

Involuntarily he must have frowned at the feel of the towel underneath him because David just kisses his forehead and says, “It’s there so neither of us has to worry about the sheets, and just stay present, okay?”

Breathing deeply Patrick nods and relaxes. David was really thinking of everything, really trying to make his first time enjoyable. _Ugh, damn,_ he was as nervous as the very first time they had spent the night together in Stevie’s apartment. The first time he had gotten to touch David’s bare cock...have it in his mouth...

Settling between Patrick’s legs, David leans over him to get the lube out of the drawer in the night table. He hovers his face near Patrick’s and manages to do the whole move without touching him at all. It’s electric and charged and Patrick's glad he decided not to take the bottle out earlier because it feels like his skin is on fire. He’s exposed and raw and greedy and _oh my fucking god if he doesn’t touch me, I’m going to scream._

Clenching the edges of the towel in his fists, he tries to calm down. David drinks in the sight of him, smirking the whole time, and apparently finally takes pity on him because he lays two soothing hands on Patrick’s knees.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, “I got you. Just breathe.”

And it is calming, it is, but Patrick is also far too _eager_ to calm all the way down. David silently nudges him to open his legs wider, tilt his hips up, sink further into the bed. The air in the apartment is cool and its… _too much_. But David’s hands are warm and firm and _just right_.

“David?” he sighs.

“Yes, baby?” David’s voice is soft and low and lovely.

“I love you.”

David shifts back up to hover over Patrick and kiss him gently, tenderly. “I love you too. Just try to relax. Focus on me, okay?" He peppers Patrick's neck with kisses, sucking on the spot just below his earlobe. "Close your eyes if you want to but focus on my voice. And if you want to stop just give me a red light. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I mean, this doesn’t have to happen all in one-”

“David?” Patrick interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“I know. Just fuck me, _please_ ,” he adds for emphasis.

Apparently David needs no second bidding because he kisses Patrick again quickly before shimmying back, and popping open the lube bottle with a soft snap. Patrick does close his eyes then and just listens to their breathing, the shuffle of their skin on the sheets, the hum of the refrigerator. Before Patrick can log any other sounds, he’s distracted by the press of David’s fingers on the tender skin around his hole.

“Oh, fuck.” The words escape his throat, but he doesn’t buck his hips, doesn’t squirm away, because it is just…fuck it’s good.

“That’s it,” David soothes small circles around the rim, “just enjoy the feel of my fingers. I want to make you feel so good, baby.”

“Mmm,” Patrick hums, feeling the tingle radiate through his veins.

“So good, you’re doing so well. I’m going to give you one finger now, okay?” He’s slow and gentle pressing in the first digit.

 _Soooo goooood._ Just like he’s been practicing, he takes a slow breath and focuses on relaxing his muscles.

David moves his hand around, stretching him further, using his thumb to continue rubbing against the rim. “That’s it, baby.”

After a few moments of tender – and filthy – stretching David adds a second finger and _ahhhhh, yessss. Fuck, yes that’s it._ Patrick tries not to think about how he had been missing out on this for so long. He covers his face with his hands because…well, he doesn’t know why. It’s just, _a lot_. David’s fingers are so, so, _talented_. And fuck, his cock was so, so hard.

“Yes, sweety, yes. You’re doing so well,” David encourages. “I’m just going to twist my hand around like this, just like we talked about before, remember? Yeah, I’m just going to curl my fingers inside of you, okay? Just like we did the other night. Ready?”

“Mm yes, fuck, yes!” Still pressing his hands against his eyes, he can only hear David’s soft laugh in response. But then David curls his fingers and hits, _oooooh fuck_ , he hits Patrick’s prostate and it takes all his strength not to jolt out of the bed. It’s…fucking indescribable the thrill, the absolute, total ecstasy and he’s right there about to...

“Fuck! Fuck, yellow or lime? Don’t move, please don’t move!”

And David stills immediately. “I don’t know what lime means, but I heard a yellow in there. Are you okay?”

“Yes! Fuck, I’m just…It means please don’t pull out. I just, shit, I was about to come and, and I don’t want to do that yet. Not yet, okay? I want you inside me. _Please_ , David? I need-” It was taking everything in him to speak, to not totally lose it right there.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here. I understand.” David curls his free arm around Patrick’s knee and kisses the top of it gently. “You’re not ready for me yet, but we can get you there very soon, okay?”

Patrick can only nod, slightly embarrassed by having to safe word but feeling so well taken care of at the same time.

“Okay, I’m going to pull out just a little to add more lube.” David does and Patrick can feel the cold liquid drip down his perineum, and he has to suppress the giggle forming in his chest.

“That’s it. I’m going to go for three in a second, okay? Just like you did yesterday. I’m so proud of you for getting there. I’m sorry I missed it.” All their times ‘practicing’ that week David had stopped at two fingers. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Patrick could take it, it was just that one of them inevitably got too worked up and needed to finish fast. “God that was so hot. Fuck, I had to go to the bathroom and jerk off thinking about that.” Truthfully, it was one of the hardest orgasms Patrick had ever had. “You’re doing so well with my fingers in your ass, baby. Are you ready for three?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please,” Patrick’s breathing is ragged again and he tries with all his might to slow it down.

“Good, good.”

The press of all three fingers is… _fuuuullll_. So full. David’s fingers are definitely longer than Patrick’s…and he’s at a much better angle to hit… _oh, fuck_ he can hit so much farther. So much _deeper_.

“Yes, baby, so good.” David pumps his fingers in and out slowly, deliberately. “You’ve held on so well. Oh, Patrick you’re so gorgeous like this. I can’t wait to fuck you. Can’t wait to bury my cock in you.” With every thrust Patrick can feel him trying to open his fingers just a bit, stretch his walls and tight muscles.

“Yes, please!” he pants, “Please fuck me, David.”

“Look at you, hungry for it. God, you’re beautiful.”

“I’m ready David, _please_. Please, quickly.” God, he’s never wanted anything more. Wanted David’s weight on him, his cock stretching him. And _oh, fuck_ he’s so glad when David pulls his fingers out carefully and steps off the bed to finally shuck his thong. God, he looked fucking _magnificent_ in those. Maybe they would have an Underwear Only rule while in the apartment together. He would love to see a parade of David’s underwear collection.

In a quick and practiced move, David has a condom on his straining and leaking cock, adding a generous amount of lube before settling back between Patrick’s legs and adding more lube to his probably red and open hole. He guides Patrick’s knees a little further back tilting his pelvis to better line up with his cock.

“Oh, so ready for me, baby,” he whispers encouragingly, pressing just the tip first, half hovering over him. He glances back and forth between Patrick’s face and watching his cock enter him. “So, good, baby. So good”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Patrick growls as David presses the head fully in, slowly. Achingly, slowly, his ass stretching to accommodate his size, welcoming him home to the hilt. “Fuck, David.”

Fully seated now, David folds himself over Patrick protectively, burying his face in his shoulder. Instinctively, Patrick wraps his legs around David’s calves, holding him in place, and encouraging him to move all in one. It was strange, so strange to be in this position. But it was…fucking ecstasy too.

“You feel amazing,” David whispers against his skin, gradually, leisurely pulling his dick back just halfway before pushing back in, finding a rhythm.

Patrick presses his face into the side of David’s head, clutches his arms around the straining muscles in his back. His cock – which hasn’t been touched at all – is pressed between them leaking freely.

“Oh, fuck, David. I’m going to come if you press against me like this while you…fuuuck me.”

Pulling his hips back David shifts to look at Patrick properly. “Do you want that? Do you want to come while I’m inside you?”

“Yes, hell, yes,” he pants, barely holding on.

“Good, that’s so good. Your ass is…fuck, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with. You are gorgeous, fuck you feel so good.”

Patrick shifts his arms to David’s waist, pulling him in, encouraging him to thrust in earnest. The sound of their skin, the smell of David’s shampoo, the feel of David’s cock stretching and hitting…just, just so, it all overwhelms Patrick’s senses.

“I’m so close,” he gasps. “Oh, my fucking god, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He thrusts his hips up to meet David’s rhythm letting his cock get rubbed between them.

“Yes, baby. Yes, take it. Take it. I’ve got you.”

The only time Patrick really cursed was in bed, and tonight he hasn't held back at all. A series of “Fuck, fuck, fucks” tumble out of his mouth as he chases the thrill. Lets himself get pushed, _fucked_ into the mattress and right over the cliff. It’s so good. It’s so fucking perfect. David’s cock is brushing, thrusting, hitting right… _right there_. His balls clench and his vision goes blurry as he comes, spilling himself on his stomach and chest. Some may even be on his neck for all he knows. All that he can focus on is David still thrusting inside him, his hands desperately gripping at Patrick’s skin.

“Fuck, Patrick, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he rambles.

“Yes, David. Fuck me. I fucking love you. Fuck me.”

In an instant David is clenching and grunting out his release. “Oh my god, oh my god, fuck,” his thrusts begin to still. “I love you, Patrick. I love you so much. You did so well. Holy shit.”

David pulls out of Patrick’s beautifully sore ass slowly then nearly collapses on top of him, exhausted, well shagged, blissful, and they just catch their breath together for a second.

They take their time cleaning up, kissing slowly, holding each other close, whispering loving affirmations. God, David was perfect, in every conceivable way. Patrick wasn’t exactly sure what he would feel after his first time getting properly fucked, but damn, he’s so pleased with the outcome. Complete and utter satisfaction, like he could sleep for a week, but also maybe run a marathon?

They don their briefs again, running admiring hands over each other’s hips as they do so, and settle into the bed face to face.

“How do you feel?” David asks tentatively, worry written on his face.

“So, good,” Patrick hopes he puts enough enthusiasm in his voice. “I can’t believe what I was missing.” Maybe that was too earnest because they both can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well, seriously. Thank you, David.”

“For what?” his smile is light and open.

“For everything. For being so thoughtful.”

David leans in close for a kiss before replying, “It was all my pleasure.”

“Mmm, I don’t want to argue about it, but it was at least partly mine too.”

They spend another full minute just gazing at each other and caressing skin. Patrick tries not to think beyond this moment, beyond tonight. But it’s in his nature. He already has visions of David’s stuff filling up the apartment.

The familiarity of it makes his heart clench. He wants that. He wants it so much. They’ll say their goodbyes eventually and it will be _too soon._ Their lives are so intertwined. It’s so beautiful and scary and all the things. And Patrick starts to form _plans_. Plans to keep David here longer. Forever.

“We picked a good mattress,” David yawns dreamily. “I’m going to pass out.”

“That’s okay,” Patrick assures him. He’s not sure he’ll ever sleep again, so he watches David’s eyelids flutter shut and waits for David to start lightly snoring before whispering, “I’m going to marry you, David Rose,” into his forehead with a soft kiss. 


End file.
